The Six Stages of Grieving
by UniqueAsterisk
Summary: Robin knows what it feels like to lose the people you care about. Zatanna needs to talk to someone who understands. A one-shot set after Misplaced.


**Author Notes: This is the first fanfiction I'm uploading, so I hope you enjoy it. It's set just after _Misplaced_ and I know that was all the way back in season one, but I wrote this a while ago and now I'm uploading it. Please enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice. It belongs to DC Comics and Cartoon Network.**

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**The Six Stages of Grieving  
**

"How are you doing?" Robin asked.

He was standing in the doorway to Zatanna's room. It had been less than a week since the whole two dimensions thing and he knew, from his own experiences that she was probably still hurting.

"Not the best." Zatanna replied.

He looked down at her through his sunglasses. She was lying on the violet carpeted floor, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why are you on the floor?" Robin asked, taking a step into the room.

"It helps me think." she said. Her voice sounded sad. She didn't sound like the same clever, upbeat sorceress who'd walked into the Cave a month ago. Since then she'd been through some pretty bad stuff to say the least. She'd fought villains; she'd almost been killed more than once; she'd been Doctor Fate; and then she'd lost her dad forever. She understood the consequences now. She knew the pain. She wasn't the same person anymore.

Then again, since they'd formed this team, Robin wasn't the same either.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Pull up some floor." she replied without looking at him.

He walked in, closed the door, and lay down on the floor next to her. They just stayed that way for a few minutes, silently staring at the ceiling. It was strangely calming, having to focus on nothing. But eventually the silence was broken.

"Have you been okay lately?" Robin asked without turning his attention away from the ceiling.

"Everyone keeps asking that."

He knew that already. He knew how annoying it felt to be bombarded by a never-ending string of people who said they understood, but didn't feel his pain.

It had been four years since his parents' death, and in those four years he'd had time to think. Time to learn and to understand. He now knew why people always asked if you were okay; it was because they cared about what happened to you but they didn't know what to say to you. Sometimes they really knew what you were going through. Most of the time they didn't.

He'd also learned that it helped to have someone who _truly _understood. Bruce had understood and Alfred had tried. Robin felt like he had to reach out to Zatanna and try to help her deal with the emotions he knew too well.

"They keep asking if you're okay because they care about you."

"Well… I lost my dad. I'm never going to see him again. How do you think I feel!?" she replied with a pain in her voice that Robin understood was a mixture of both anger and despair.

"You feel sad, scared, angry, alone. You feel like it's your fault, like there's nothing left. You wanna punch something and break down crying at the same time. You're upset and you don't know what to do." Robin said.

"How…" Zatanna started softly, then her voice tightened and grew angry, "Where'd you get that from? Some stupid book about coping with death? The Internet? Where?"

"I know how it feels to lose someone." Robin said quietly.

"Everyone says that, too." she replied bitterly.

Robin kept his voice calm and his eyes on the ceiling as he said, "Just… listen. Please?"

"Fine." Zatanna relented with a sigh.

"Okay," Robin continued, "There are six stages of grieving. I think you're still in stage one, but there's no way to tell for sure. They all kind of run together."

"And what, pray tell, are the six stages of grieving?" Zatanna asked sarcastically.

"They're something I made up." he answered with a slight smirk.

"But what are they?" she asked, genuinely wanting to know.

"Well, first," Robin began, "There's sadness. Lots of tears. A lot o f bad memories. Sometimes you break down crying in public. Most of the time you feel worse because you try to hold it in."

Zatanna shifted uncomfortably on the floor next to him. He knew she understood.

"It lasts for about a week. Sometimes more, sometimes less. But it always feels like the world is ending. Until you get to the second stage.

"Stage two is denial. You tell yourself over and over that it didn't happen. You say, 'He can't be gone.' You keep thinking, 'They can't be dead.' You call their phone number just to hear their voice on the answering machine… Some people think you're crazy, and maybe they're right. But people who've been through it understand. It's all part of the process. Stage two's pretty short. It lasts a day or two at the most. Usually less.

"Then there's stage three. It's more sadness, once the denial wears off. There's crying, loneliness, all that. There's no real measurable time limit for this one. It's different for everyone, depending on who you lose and how willing you are to move on. You have to be willing to keep living or stage three can go on for, well, forever.

"Four is anger. You yell at everyone who tries to be comforting. You hate yourself, you hate the world. You punch your pillow. You throw things. You just get so angry at everything, and sometimes you're not even sure why. All that anger gets burned up in about a week.

"Then you get to stage five. Easiest way to describe it is… you feel numb."

"Numb?" Zatanna asked uncertainly.

"Yeah." Robin continued, "You just… stop. And it can go on for months or even years. You go through the motions everyday, but you don't feel anything. Everything passes in a sort of blur. After the tears dry and the anger fades, you just feel like a shell of yourself. It's worse, in retrospect, than all of the sadness and anger combined. Because it's better to feel a terrible emotion than no emotion at all."

He fell silent then. They just lay there, saying nothing, and moving not an inch.

Finally, Zatanna asked, "What about stage six?"

Robin smiled.

"Stage six," he said, "Is the best and usually the longest. It's healing. It's moving on. It's life and living. It's remembering the past without forgetting the possibilities of the future. It's happiness and love along with the sadness and anger. It's the beauty and the balance in the world. It's opening up. It's talking and running and watching TV. It's coping."

Zatanna smiled then. It was a small smile, and only she knew it was there since Robin wasn't looking at her. But somehow she felt it was a step. A small step, but a step nonetheless, toward stage six.

"Crying yourself to sleep at night," Zatanna began quietly, "Is that okay?"

"Well," Robin replied, "It isn't good or bad, but it's normal. It'll stop eventually. Soon, actually. It's that way with a lot of things. I promise."

Again they fell silent.

After what felt like an eternity, Zatanna broke the silence.

"Who did you lose?" she asked, knowingly.

She spoke in a tone that Robin had heard very few times in his life. Bruce had used that tone, on the night when Robin's parents had died. A couple of other people had spoken to him like that during the months following that life-changing event; when he left the circus, at the funeral, at the adoption negotiations. It was a tone reserved by those who knew true pain for when they spoke to those who knew the same pain.

The room was quiet for so long that Zatanna was sure he wouldn't answer.

Then…

"Everyone." Robin stated flatly.

"Me, too…" she said with dry humor, and then added, "But… _who_ exactly?"

"I… I'm not supposed to talk about it." he replied.

"Batman?"

"Batman."

"I won't force you to talk." she said, "I know how it feels."

For another moment there was silence, then Robin came to a realization.

"Zatanna?" he began.

"Yeah."

"Where's your mom?"

"She's dead." Zatanna replied without hesitation.

Robin stiffened.

"You don't have to tell me." he said quickly, "Unless you want to."

"It was less than a year after I was born." she continued, "I don't really remember her except for what my dad told me. I was too young to understand it, too young to miss her. I don't even really miss her now. Which sounds terrible, I know, but it isn't. You can't miss what you never had. But I think about her a lot. I wonder what she was like, what I would've learned from her. My dad always said I looked a lot like her. I've seen pictures. I have her eyes. That's about it. Losing her… it – it hurt my dad a lot. I'm not sure he ever completely got over it. I think that was why he was always so protective. He didn't want to lose me, because I was all he had left."

"I lost both me parents when I was nine." Robin said, "That same night, both my aunt and my cousin were killed. My uncle was paralyzed. I can't really tell you about all of it, ya know, because of Batman, but I can tell you that I know how you feel. I understand."

"Does it still hurt?" she asked, "Four years later; does it still hurt?"

"Yeah." he replied truthfully, "On really bad days, I still cry about it. And I'm not ashamed. I'll never forget the night that it happened. It changed my whole life."

There was silence for a moment in which neither of them moved. There was a bond between them now. The strong bonds that exists, whether it is discussed or not, between people of shared experience and pain.

Then he felt the light touch of her hand against his. He tensed for a moment, but did not recoil. She gently laced her fingers through his and he relaxed.

"If you ever need to talk," Robin said, still holding Zatanna's hand, "Or scream, or cry, or whatever, just call me."

"I'd like that." she said sweetly.

Robin smiled to himself. Batman probably wouldn't approve of all this. No, Batman _definitely_ wouldn't approve of all this. But as Robin held Zatanna's hand and stared at the ceiling, he didn't care. What was happening right now was what really mattered. Batman could wait.


End file.
